


I’m Here Now

by Hoehoehoelt



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Drugged Character, F/M, FLUFF EVENTUALLY, Female Adaar x Male Tabris, Female Trevelyan x Male Lavellan, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Magebane, Male Lavellan - Freeform, Male Tabris - Freeform, Sickness, Slavery, female adaar - Freeform, female trevelyan - Freeform, implied minor sexual harrassment, just a cousin to them, this Tabris isn’t the hof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 16:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15610017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoehoehoelt/pseuds/Hoehoehoelt
Summary: Mesara Trevelyan has only wanted to do good for her people. How was she to know it was at the potential risk of losing her lover?Borrowed Marquis1305’s oc’s Mesara and Damaia for this ^^ I totally recommend going to check out their fics!Adair and Vis belong to me





	1. How could this have gone so wrong

The sun of the hissing wastes beat down on the backs of the exhausted party as they trudged through the sands and dunes that seemed to stretch on forever. They had already been in the wastes a week now, trying to find a group of mercenaries that were assisting venatori to operate a slave and lyrium smuggling trade. The heat was getting to all three mages and rogue, elevating tempers and slowing down combat. The last scrap they had been in had barely went in their favour, and it only did because Adair and Mesara fused their ice and blood magic together. A combination that took a lot of both.

 

They couldn’t stop until they reached the next mine, but they all knew that they weren’t likely to make it that far. Vis was struggling with his bad leg, and Damaia was trying to make sure he kept up with them. No one had foreseen how hard this was going to be. But the Inquisitor and her most trusted friends never gave up.

 

‘’Mesara, we need to stop.’’

 

The herald of Andraste couldn’t help but huff out an annoyed breath as she turned around to see what the reason was. Normally she was composed, but she was too tired to try. She saw Solavellis sitting on the ground, gripping at his leg as Adair tried his best to ease the older elf’s pain. Damaia stood as tall and imposing as ever beside them, both out of concern for her lover and to keep watch. Mesara shouldn’t have felt so frustrated at all of them for these things, but she did. Against her better judgement, she was going to snap and yell. But she never got the chance, as she watched the qunari’s eyes widen, before drawing her staff.

 

‘’Venatori!’’

 

Mesara let out a rather unladylike curse as she withdrew her rapier from its sheath attached to her hip, taking note of Adair pulling his staff from his back whilst Vis drew his daggers, having to be pulled up quickly by Damaia. This would be a tight fight, especially in the condition they were in. But they had made it through every other one. Hopefully this one would be no different.

 

The first warrior rushed up, only to be stopped momentarily by a strike of lightening square in the chest. It was long enough for Mesara to run forward and thrust her blade through the burning clothes and charred flesh. A clean kill and she was able to move onto the next.

 

The fight felt like it was going on forever. When one venatori was cut down, three more appeared. It was obvious this was a losing battle. Vis had been cut down long ago with a sharp blow to the head, being picked out as the weakest of the group. Damaia had gone into a rage and swiftly followed, expelling all of her mana and ridding herself of her last potential weapon by breaking it over an enemies head. She was taken down by a dagger in the shoulder and a pommel to the temple. Mesara had taken notice that no one was being killed...Perhaps they intended for them to also end up as slaves, or torture them for information...Who knew.

 

‘’Agh!’’

 

Her attention was drawn to her right, and whipping around, she was just in time to see Adair he cornered by at least five. His staff lay shattered to multiple pieces in the sand, and his arms were drenched in blood but she could see the flesh knitting itself back together.

 

She couldn’t move, fear and exhaustion gripping her body. She couldn’t help him. His face was steeled, but she could see in his body how tense and afraid he was. He couldn’t fight back anymore. And a few seconds later, as time seemed to go on and on forever, the venatori warrior standing in front of his swung his metal covered fist in a wide arc, connecting with Adair’s cheek only moments later and knocking him out cold in one hit. Mesara‘s green eyes widened in horror watching his body collapse in a heap on the desert floor.

 

‘’Ad-!’’

 

She never even got to finish calling out. As right after, he felt some sharp and thin slide into the back of his waist.

 

She stood frozen. She knew she should be feeling pain, but the adrenaline coursing through her body stopped any chance of that.

 

But the blood flowing from her wound mixed last reserves of mana and general exhaustion from the sweltering desert heat, had her falling to her knees before she was pushed onto her stomach by a kick to the back. She felt so dizzy, like she just wanted to close her eyes and wait for it to pass.

 

‘’Who’re we takin’?’’

 

‘’The Elves. Qunari’s too heavy and you _stabbed_ the girl.’’

 

‘’She was fighting too much!’’

 

Mesara could barely lift her head back up off of where she had rested it on the sand, forcing herself to open her eyes. She hadn’t even realised she had closed them in the first place.

 

‘’You sure you want both? Our ’ _client_ ’ wouldn’t appreciate spoiled goods...Brown one was limping, and it’s face is pretty messed up.’’

 

Mesara watched as Vis was pushed over onto his back, and inspected like livestock...It made her feel sick.

 

‘’Shame too. It’s a pretty one.’’

 

‘’We still got one more...I’d say we hit the gold pot.’’

 

Panic and fear gripped her heart when they made their way over to Adair, one kneeling down beside him and the other standing over him. He was also flipped around onto his back. The one kneeling down whistled, and if he hadn’t covered his face, Mesara would be sure he had a lecherous grin...

 

‘’Maker...You sure it’s even real? Never knew they could be so pretty.’’

 

He gripped Adair’s jaw and turned his head from side to side, pushing his mouth open with his thumb.

 

‘’It’s got all it’s teeth too! Andraste’s tits were gonna be paid a goldmine! Er...What is it though?’’

 

The man standing up grunted, shrugging dismissively.

 

‘’Does it matter? It’s young and it’s got a pretty face.’’

 

‘’I guess...Still, our client wants to know what he’s paying for right?’’

 

Giving in, the other venatori dropped to his knees, shaking his head in obvious annoyance. He then reached out towards Adair’s crotch, and Mesara could feel her insides twisting up in disgust as he copped a feel.

 

‘’Boy.’’

 

He stood back up, shaking off his hand, and the other man’s shoulders seemed to sag.

 

‘’Shame. Maybe could have tried out the goods.’’

 

‘’Could just have your fun from behind. You’d probably lose _it_ though if _he_ found out you tampered with his property.’’

 

‘’True...Let’s just get going before they wake up.’’

 

‘‘Agreed.’’

 

The man kneeling stood up, slinging Adair over his shoulder as he went. The two of them rallied the others back to form a group, and they began trudging a path back to their camp. Before she passed out, the exhaustion finally catching up to the mage, Mesara thought she heard him yell ‘’We’re heading back to the fort!’’

 

She had to find a fort.

 

And her Adair.


	2. Is this what Hell looks like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adair is trapped in the venatori fort and despairing

Adair isn’t sure where he is when he comes to. It smells horrible and everything is too _loud_. Everything hurts, his face, his arms, he feels disgusting. And he’s so thirsty, his throat feeling closed up and tongue as heavy as a rock in his mouth. He tries asking for water, barely managing a raspy whisper. He thinks no one hears, but then suddenly someone is lifting his head gently, holding a bottle to his lips. He drinks greedily...Until the bitter taste of a magebane concoction hits him, and his eyes snap open. He tries to turn over, spit it out, but he’s pinned down and a hand is held over his mouth, fingers pinching his nostrils so he can’t breath. Adair tries to fight back, flailing and scratching at shielded wrists, but it’s no use. The masked stranger shushes him, rubbing the elf’s throat with his thumb. A single tear rolls down Adair’s bruised cheek as he’s forced to give in. He swallows, and after he’s released, gasps in desperate breaths of air. The awareness only lasts momentarily however. A haze settles over his mind quickly, and he loses control and feeling in his body as the drug kicks in, draining his mana slowly, sapping his strength. It should have took longer, but he barely had any strength left as it was. He drifts back off into oblivion.

 

It’s the sound of voices that rouse him the next time, talking, plotting, Adair isn’t entirely sure. He can barely think as it is, can’t move at all. He’s so tired...He almost falls asleep again, when one word catches his attention and has panic seizing his entire being.

 

‘’We-.....Minra-..... _Slaves_....’’

 

‘Slaves’...What did they mean by slaves? That’s when it all came back. What they had been searching for, why they had came to the hissing wastes, why Mesara wanted to resolve this matter personally...Mesara.

 

Adair’s breathing began to speed up. Was she alive? Where was she? Was she here?! He tried to push himself up, but he could even gather the strength to move his arms. He let out a choked and ragged sob, squeezing his eyes shut as the tears began to flow freely down his cheeks.

 

‘’Mes...Mesara.....Mesara...!!!’’

 

Adair tried to cry out for her, ears straining through his addled mind for a reply that never came. He couldn’t stop crying. He was so afraid, he couldn’t go back to Minrathous. Couldn’t be a...A _slave_. Not again...And he had no idea if Mesara was okay. Was she looking for him? Was she lying dead in the sand?

 

He could barely gasp in air in between his sobs, his body shaking violently. He managed to curl in on himself, tucking himself into a ball. He just couldn’t stop the tears. He begged for her to come, begged for her to save him, but she just...Wouldn’t come...

 

‘’Would you shut the fuck up already?!’’

 

Adair yelped in pain as he was picked up by his hair, only crying harder as he was shoved back against the wall. He hit it hard, the air being knocked out of his lungs, and he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was suffocating, choked sobs still escaping him and obstructing any chances to properly catch his breath. He felt sick, so sick. He was so cold. He wanted, _needed_ Mesara to come to him. Wrap her arms around him like she always does and tell him it’s going to be okay. When he wouldn’t stop he was kicked sharply in the stomach, but it still didn’t serve any purpose. Adair couldn’t stop, and once again he couldn’t breathe.

 

‘’For the love of...Fucking hell, this better not kill you.’’

 

The guard pulled another vial filled with a black sandy liquid from his belt, popping the cork and holding Adair still by the hair. Adair doesn’t fight back nearly as much this time around. He can’t anyway. He accepts it, closing his eyes and letting the drug work on him as he’s pushed back over onto his side, and he slips back off into the darkness. His last thoughts are of Mesara...Whatever Creators were listening, Elgar’nan god of vengeance, Mythal the protector, Andruil the huntress...He prayed that they would please let her be okay...


	3. A Timely Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two lovers are reunited, though not all is well.

Adair is curled up in the very corner of the cell he’s in hours later. He’s so cold, but at the same time he was sweating buckets. Sometimes he would be shivering so hard he was sure there would be no end to it, and then he’d be screaming in pain and writhing on the ground, body surely alight with flames. His shirt had long been discarded, pulled off desperately in an attempt to escape the horrific heat racking his body. He almost regretted it, the cold moments only feeling worse, but they didn’t last nearly as long. He had spent a good thirty minutes or so heaving up the little contents of his stomach not too long ago. At least, it had felt like not too long ago...He wasn’t sure anymore, time was beginning to blur...

 

The drug had worn off some, but not as much as he’d have liked. He could barely move still and every now and then one of the venatori would come to taunt him, maybe beat him around some. It had been another sharp kick to the stomach that had him puking...After he’d stripped down as much as he could a man came in, getting too touchy for Adair’s liking. Grabbing his waist and forcing him to turn over, tracing the tattoos on his body with sharp nails, grabbing his jaw and forcing the Dalish to look at him whilst tears spilled from his yellow eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dim candlelight of the dungeons. Adair had only been spared more misery by the venatori’s fellows calling him away...He had promised to return though...

 

He’s vaguely aware of the sound of an explosion. He can feel it rock the fort, sees parts of the ceiling begin to crumble...But he’s too tired and sick to care...At least if the roof collapses and kills him, he’ll be free from more hell...There’s the sound of combat echoing down to the lower chamber, screams of rage and pain filling the air. Someone was attacking...But who? Maybe the Inquisition? Hope filled Adair’s heart and he tried to get up again, hoping to catch the attention of whoever was wreaking hell on this wretched place, but he barely managed two steps before stumbling and collapsing to the floor again, a tired sob escaping him. He isn’t sure how long he’s lying there, or how long the combat goes on for, but soon enough he’s hearing a familiar voice.

 

‘’Check the other sections of the dungeons! Free _everyone_! I’ll look in these ones!’’

 

It’s...Mesara...Determined to catch her attention, Adair manages one more pitiful yell, voice raw and hurt but loud enough that her head snaps in his direction.

 

‘’Mesara...!!!’’

 

She’s running over within seconds, green eyes filling with tears of relief as she goes. She freezes the lock of the cell and shatters it with her sword, too desperate to get to the man she loves to bother searching for a key. She runs inside and instantly kneels next to Adair, gathering his frail body up in her arms.

 

All Adair can do is cry. After the shock has worn off, he cries. He cries into her shoulder, nearly screaming and hiccuping breaths in between. He sobs and roars, allowing himself to break in her hold. Not as if he was holding it together as it was, but here in her arms he’s safe. Nothing bad will happen to him, she would never allow it.

 

His sails and cries are ugly, and loud, and Adair isn’t sure how she withstands it but she does. Rubbing his back reassuringly and whispering in his drooping ears that she’s there now. That he doesn’t need to fear, that’s she’s sorry she allowed this to ever happen. Adair can’t even speak. Not even when he’s letting out weak and tired sobs, body jolting softly with every ragged inhale. Not even when Damaia and Vis come running into the dungeons he’s being kept in, having heard the screams.

 

He quiets eventually, sniffling into Mesara’s robes, head tucked under her chin, fingers gripping onto her as much as possible. He feels as if he could fall asleep right there, but then his stomach is churning and he’s pushing her away, falling to the side and puking up nothing but bile. It leaves him in even more pain than before and he coughs sharply in between dry heaving, but he has no tears left to cry. Mesara has a hand on his back, rubbing it up and down, rubbing soothing circles on the tight scars that litter his pale and tattooed back.

 

He apologises weakly, but she doesn’t speak, just pulls him back to her, and wraps her outer robe around his shaking shoulders.

 

‘’Damaia...He feels like he’s on fire...’’

 

Mesara sounded incredibly worried about him. He tried to pay attention to what Damaia said next, but he couldn’t. His mind was slipping again, he was _so tired._..Next thing he knew he was being scooped up into muscular Qunari arms, and being carried out of the god forsaken fort into the night. The air was cool now, and it felt good on his skin...At least until he started shivering more violently and he whimpered because it was almost _painful_.

 

When he managed to look up at Damaia through bleary eyes, she had a grim yet determined expression. He then looked down, catching sight of Mesara’s hand gripping his own. Huh...He hadn’t even felt her...His eyes slipped closed again, and he could only mutter two words before going limp in Damaia’s arms.

 

‘’So...Cold...’’


	4. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short and fluffy ending!

The next time he opens his eyes, he’s...All the way back in his and Mesara’s room in Skyhold...But...There was no way that could have been possible! Unless he...

 

Sitting bolt up right in bed, he scared the wits out of the poor healer tending to him. He begins to panic, demanding to know where Mesara, _his Mesara_ , is immediately. The poor Elven girl stutters out a reply, before standing up and rushing out the room. Only seconds later Mesara is rushing in in her place, and throwing herself at Adair. Adair grunts upon the impact, whispering a ‘’Careful’’ to his lover. He doesn’t try to stop her though, hugging back just as tightly.

 

Mesara is rambling, something about him getting really sick and having to be kept unconscious through sleeping draughts so the elfroot could work through his system undisturbed. He doesn’t catch everything, but he listens. And when she’s done, they separate. Staring into each other’s eyes. Yellow eyes shining with amusement whilst green had tears welling up in the corners.

 

‘’I’m here now Vhenan...’’

 

Adair pulls her to him again, kissing her softly. It’s a sweet and chaste kiss, and doesn’t last long because Adair already feels exhausted. But before he allows her to start mothering him, he smiles and whispers to her, forehead resting against hers.

 

‘’Ar lath ma, vhenan...I love you...’’

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr; Hoehoehoelt  
> Friend’s tumblr;Marquis1305
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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